


Steve and Natasha

by EvilDime



Series: Agent Romanoff is comfortable with everything [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (set during), (somewhat), Agent Romanoff is comfortable with everything, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Car Sex, Competence Kink, Dubious Consent, F/M, First Time, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Naive Steve Rogers, OMC - Freeform, OOC, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, POV Steve Rogers, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostitution, Sex on a Car, Virginity, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 16:23:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10666398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilDime/pseuds/EvilDime
Summary: Steve remembered what Fury had told him only a few days ago. "Agent Romanoff is comfortable witheverything." He shivered, only now fully accepting what that meant.





	Steve and Natasha

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: None of the canon characters nor the world are mine, obviously. Also, the first two lines are a direct quote from CA: TWS. 
> 
> Beta: OMOWatcher, as part of Fandom Trumps Hate. Thanks! : )
> 
> A note: I'm shamelessly using this series to indulge some of my favourite kinks, which may lead to everyone behaving somewhat out of character at times. Sorry not sorry.

_"The last one is at Fort Meade. Behind three guarded gates and a twelve inch steel wall."_

_Natasha and Steve exchanged a glance. "Shouldn't be a problem."_

Once Sam left for his morning run, Natasha and Steve started planning. Steve watched, thoroughly impressed once more, as Natasha typed some lines of gibberish on her smart phone, frowned, typed some more, and eventually came up with the construction plans and guard rotation for Fort Meade.

Steve considered the blueprints that Sam's printer spat out for them carefully. "If we enter through this side gate, we can get around one of the three guards. Only need to disable the alarm." He gestured towards part of the map as he spoke.

"Yes," Natasha agreed in a tone that already told Steve there was a 'but' coming. "And overriding the alarm on that side-entrance should be easy. However," she indeed went on, "we'd still have to get around the other two, and if we use force or coercion to do so, they'll know we aren’t there just to say hello."

"Meaning they'll check what we've sabotaged or stolen right away and be after us as soon as they are able." Steve's lips twisted unhappily at the conclusion.

"See this, though?" Natasha pointed at the guard schedule. "There's a point at 2:00 am where all three guards meet up on their rounds, get to chat for ten minutes about anything unusual they might have noticed, and probably have a cup of coffee to keep them awake before they go back to patrolling in front of their respective gates."

Steve nodded thoughtfully. "So if one of us were to distract them there long enough, the other could slip in unnoticed and be out again before they return, with no one any the wiser."

He did not even mention the two, possibly three locked gates that the person in charge of retrieval still needed to cross; he had been on enough stealth infiltration missions, before and after the ice, to consider that obstacle non-existent, and he was sure Natasha felt the same way.

Actually, distracting the guards seemed the more dangerous part in this. So he should probably take that on himself. "Think they'll be sufficiently distracted by Captain America walking into their facility at 2:00 am and asking to be given a tour?"

Natasha smirked. "Probably. But they would certainly remember your face and when they notice the theft, you'll be charged as an accomplice. No, better leave the distracting to me. I've got a pretty fail-safe plan for that."

Steve raised a questioning eyebrow, but she just smiled at him enigmatically.

Steve had decided to trust her a while ago; if he wanted their partnership to be at all successful now, he should probably keep that up. So he gave a single, deliberate nod.

Natasha's smirk brightened into an honest smile. "That’s settled, then."

* * *

Steve nearly withdrew that trust when he saw the outfit Natasha had chosen for this mission. Steve himself was in black jeans, a black blazer and a balaclava rolled up into a hat, allowing him to cover his face in case Natasha's bit of code missed any of the cameras. Not that he expected that to be an issue, but better be safe than sorry. Natasha, on the other hand, was wearing a bright red dress - a _very tiny_ bright red dress - with high heels and a lot of makeup. Granted, the way she'd done the colors made her cheeks appear more angular, her eyes larger and the shape of her lips altered to the point where he mainly recognized her by her voice. But... it also made her look _cheap_ in a way he'd never thought possible.

"Natasha..." he started, then swallowed the rest of what he wanted to say. Natasha must know exactly what she looked like right now; obviously, it was part of her plan. And unlike him, Natasha tended to plan her missions in a way that did not leave much room for her to get injured in any mad, self-sacrificing stunts. She knew what she was doing, and she would not take unnecessary risks. Doubting her attire meant doubting her skills, which was the last thing he wanted to do right before a mission where they were both depending on each other. In the end, all he said was: "You don't look like yourself at all."

She gave him a quick smile, showing her appreciation of his restraint. "That is rather the point."

Steve nodded. "Ready to go, then?"

Natasha climbed into an old vehicle whose owners were currently out of town according to their facebook status, and Steve quickly hot-wired it before taking the wheel. Natasha laughed as she pulled a spare key from above the sunscreen on the shotgun side. "That will make the rest of the journey even smoother." Steve smiled and accepted the key from her.

They drove to Fort Meade in silence, both pondering the mission ahead of them and the steps to be taken the next day to secure Sitwell.

Finally, Steve pulled the car over at the side of the road leading up to the Fort and got out. "Good luck," he said. "Let me know when it's safe to go in."

"I'll say 'This is good.' once I've got their attention," Natasha confirmed and instructed him once more. "Push this button then to start their screens displaying the loop and you're good to go." She handed him two devices, pointing out the little green button on one. The other one they'd already talked about and he was confident in his ability to use it.

"Got it."

Steve watched her drive the car up to the main gate and get out to ring the bell.

 _"Hey,"_ he heard her voice over the comm, _"I'm here to see a certain Jake Welsh. His friend from the day shift sent me as a surprise."_

Steve's stomach plummeted at the flirtatious tone. He'd hoped he had read her wrong, but it seemed she really was going to play the harlot for these men. He gritted his teeth and kept himself from storming up to the gate and pulling her back. This mission was not worth such a sacrifice! But... Natasha knew what she was doing. Maybe she'd just go in, play pretend and put them all to sleep with some hidden weapon. They'd be none the wiser, surely.

He had decided to trust her to know what she was doing. He needed to keep trusting her now.

So Steve stayed back and watched as she was let in the door. He listened to her conversation with 'Jake', listened to her wrapping the guard around her fingers while he rolled down his mask and made his way over to the side entrance. He stuck to the shadows beside the wall and tried to keep himself from growling as all three men happily fell for her ploy, seeing this amazing woman as nothing more than a cheap commodity that their friend had bought for them. How could they possibly think Natasha was anything but an incredibly strong, brave and competent agent?

However, he knew that was what she wanted them to see, and if Natasha was good at anything, it was wearing the right persona for every occasion. He felt a bit of pride in the partner he had chosen. She _was_ good at what she did, she had those idiots eating out of her hand. Any minute now, she would start them drinking, or stick them with a concealed needle, or...

 _"Yes, that's it. Don't be coy, now. I came here for a reason, and it was not just to make polite conversation."_ Natasha's throaty chuckle came through the comm at the same time as a decidedly male groan. _"And what about you boys?"_ Natasha went on. _"I'm being paid just for Jake, but for two handsome men like you, I'll make an exception. If, that is, you manage to keep my attention."_

There seemed to be some hesitation from the other guards, but then they all fell for her act hook, line and sinker. _"Yes, this is good,"_ Natasha moaned, and Steve jerked out of his horrified imaginings of three grubby night guards with their hands all over Natasha.

That was his cue.

He pushed the button on the smaller device and pocketed it. Then he attached the second one to the correct spot on the door and watched it blinking as it interrupted the alarm system. With each tiny flicker of light, he buried his doubts about what was happening upstairs a little deeper. By the time the light switched to green, he felt capable of carrying out his task. Entering the facility on silent feet, he followed the layout he had memorized to the second gate and started disabling the mechanism that kept it shut. A camera was focused on him the entire time, but he trusted that Natasha's program was at this very moment displaying an empty hallway on any active screens, overwriting the actual recording as it went. Just as he trusted her not to get herself hurt.

 _"Ooh, lovely,"_ he heard Natasha's voice in his ear while he worked. She sounded breathy. _"Larger than I expected, I am not sure how it will ever fit."_ Her voice sounded both coy and flirtatious at the same time, and Steve found himself dryly swallowing. Why wasn't she putting the guards down already?

A long, drawn-out moan startled him into nearly slamming the gate behind him after he'd passed it. Catching it at the last second, he softly pulled it most of the way shut behind him. After a couple of deep breaths to steady himself past the soft noises of skin slapping on skin that rang through his comm, he went on.

 _"Hey, gorgeous, come over here, I'm feeling neglected,"_ he heard Natasha breathily announcing. _"Yes, gimme that."_ And soon after, there were some slurping noises, some grunts and moans and more slapping.

Steve remembered what Fury had told him only a few days ago. "Agent Romanoff is comfortable with _everything_." He shivered, only now fully accepting what that meant.

Natasha wasn't going to put the guards down. She was whoring herself out so he could get Sam his wings. And she was doing it well, like she’d had years of experience. Steve's hands bunched into tight fists at his sides. If he'd known this was her plan, he would never have agreed.

But it was too late to turn back now. Breaking it off now would cheapen her sacrifice by rendering it useless. He would be a bastard for doing that.

So on he went, through the second gate and into the storage room, finding and quickly retrieving the EXO-07 from its box and closing it up again, leaving no trace he had ever been here - while two floors above him, Natasha was getting fucked by three bored, uncouth night guards.

He could hear their voices over the comm, could hear the derogatory names they called Natasha, her occasional gasps as they pinched and manhandled her, the surprised yelp when one of them spanked her; their laughter, their rough voices, their animal groans and grunts. But he also heard Natasha's little moans of pleasure, the way she pleaded them for more, harder, faster, and he couldn't help but wonder if it was all an act.

Parts of him certainly thought it was real, and he felt his cheeks flush with burning shame as his cock hardened at the images forming in his head: Natasha, naked and writhing in the throes of passion, those vibrant eyes half-lidded with pleasure, lips wet with lust and maybe with a droplet of a man's essence. And, despite the sounds confirming she was playing the scarlet woman, letting those men grope and fuck her as they pleased, he still pictured her in control of the situation, subtly guiding them where she wanted them, making them do her bidding.

Steve nearly lost it at that mental image.

One of the men gave a low groan and the slurping ceased. Natasha hummed, low and seemingly content.

Steve closed the last door behind him, stumbling out of the Fort and back down the road. _"All clear,"_ he whispered into his comm.

 _"Ah, oh this is good,"_ he heard Natasha's voice, confirming his status report while also voicing her approval of whatever the men were currently doing to her. _"I... I'll be there any moment now..."_ she said, again both to Steve and to the men around her. The slapping noises increased, as did everyone's moans and grunts.

Natasha suddenly gave a little high-pitched cry of wild joy and lust, and Steve broke. He stepped off the road, behind a tree, and pulled out his cock. One of the men moaned and the slapping decreased. The last one also seemed to near his release, marked by another groan and increased activity. Natasha, meanwhile, was giving little gasps of mixed pleasure and pain, and Steve could so easily picture her squirming between the men's hands and bodies, striving to wring more pleasure from her body despite the over-stimulation.

Natasha's breathing accelerated once more, cresting in another moaning gasp that overlapped with the last man's groaned climax. Steve furiously pumped his cock, his knees weakening, his hot release spurting onto the grass beneath his boots at the thought of Natasha, Natasha, Natasha.

Natasha.

* * *

When the car rumbled down the driveway toward him, Steve was sure his cheeks were still flushed and his body must reek of what he had just done. Natasha, on the other hand, was still - or again? - wearing perfect make-up, not a hair out of place, and looking entirely comfortable in her own skin.

She cocked her head as he climbed in, eyes lowered to avoid her gaze. "Are you alright?" she asked.

Steve couldn't help a bark of laughter escaping. "I should be asking you that!"

Her easy manner fell off her like snow off a wandering iceberg. Hard, frosty edges peeked up from below. "And why would I not be alright?" The icy challenge in her tone could have cut diamonds.

Steve finally met her gaze. "You did more to distract those guards than I expected. You shouldn’t have had to. I’m sorry."

Natasha’s lips thinned. "You think a little bit of sex is going to hurt me? You must really have a low opinion of me."

"God, Nat, no, on the contrary! I highly value your competence, your style of fighting, your computer skills, the way you give everything, even after your world fell apart.” He paused in his heated response. When he continued, his voice was calmer. “I admire you, Natasha - everything about you. And I am absolutely sure that you were in perfect control of the situation up there every second of the encounter. Never doubt that!"

Some of the ice seemed to melt. "Then what is your problem?"

Steve lowered his eyes again. "It's... maybe I’m just old-fashioned. That surely wouldn't be a shock to you, would it? But I always thought that sex should be meaningful. That it should only happen between people who care for each other, you know? Bucky -"

He broke off, but then rallied. "Bucky used to step out with a lot of dames back in the day, but he only went home with the special ones, the ones he genuinely cared for. Granted, he never stayed with any one of them, but they wouldn't have wanted that either. So it was alright, because both parties agreed, and cared, but neither wanted more than the other was willing to give." He smiled a lopsided smile, daring a quick look at her face. It gave nothing away. Steve soldiered on. "I just don't understand sex without that emotion. I don't want you to suffer on a mission, and I think sex with someone you don't care for would hurt. Doesn't it?"

Pleading for her to understand and to help him out, he looked over at Natasha. Her expression was unreadable, part frown, part enigmatic smile. He was glad she was letting him see that much; it meant she was not shutting him out, but rather thinking about how to answer.

"The Red Room trained me to use my body as a weapon," she finally said. Steve flinched. Natasha took her eyes fully off the road to smile at him. "But that's not all it is to me," she continued. "The W-" She broke off, seemingly lost in some memory. A shadow flashed across her face, there and gone. "My instructor in the uses of the female body-" Steve's fists clenched at her wording. "-liked me, for some reason. I think he had the same kink for competence you do." She flashed him a smirk, increasing the heat in his cheeks. He was glad it was so dark inside the car.

"He liked me enough to break protocol for me. Instead of teaching me to go numb, to accept whatever a man was doing to me and work through it... instead of that, he taught me how to _enjoy_ it." Steve suppressed a shiver as her lips curled into a seemingly fond smile, turning her eyes back to the road while remembering the man who had taught her to like being used.

"You still shouldn't have to do that," Steve quietly said.

"And I don’t," Natasha replied easily. "I could have kept those guards busy any number of ways. But I _chose_ this way. Not because it's the easiest way, and not because I value myself so lowly. Don't be silly, I can practically smell your doubts..." Her nostrils flared. "Actually, I can smell something else, but we'll get to that."

Now Steve's blush must surely reach all the way down to his toes, judging by the way heat rushed through him on the wings of his embarrassment.

"First, you need to understand that I did not dislike what I did with those men."

Steve frowned. "You are telling me you enjoyed that?"

The ice returned to Natasha's voice and face in an instant. "Are you saying I should not have?"

Steve gulped. "No, of course not. If you had fun, then I'm of course happy for you. I just... I did not expect..."

"But you did hear me, didn't you?" Natasha asked softly.

"I... yes," Steve admitted. "Very much so." His gaze returned to his own crotch, utterly embarrassed. His cock was twitching again at the memory of the sounds Natasha had made and Steve was oh so grateful once more for the darkness. He peeked out the window. He would have sworn that they had passed nearly exclusively urban areas on the way here, but Natasha was currently driving them through miles and miles of dark, uninhabited forest. Steve forced himself to look at Natasha again and continue the conversation.

"I heard you, and you already know I got off on it," he said, brutally honest despite himself. "I hate to think that I got off on listening to you playing a part you hated. I already feel like enough of a pervert as it is. So if you actually enjoyed all of it, if your... enthusiasm was genuine - I'd be deliriously happy to hear that."

"It was," Natasha said quietly, seriously. Then she smirked. "I’ll allow that you are a bit of a perv for jerking off to the audio of your colleague getting fucked by three men. But I don’t think you have a rape kink, at least.” The look she gave him started out as a mischievous grin, but turned into an honest smile. “And I do feel flattered.”

"Flattered?" Steve felt very much out of his depth. "You’re not... mad at me?"

"Not at all," Natasha said. "I did know you would be listening when I planned all this, didn't I?"

Steve pondered that for a moment. "You’re saying you meant for me to hear that."

"Well, obviously. And I don’t mind if you enjoyed it. In fact..."

The car rolled to a stop, and she turned to face him. Steve swallowed, pinned under her gaze. "In fact, I wouldn’t mind at all if you got out of your seat, right this very minute, dragged me out, and fucked me against the side of the car."

Steve gasped at the mental image. "But... why?"

Natasha leaned close to him, her perfume not quite covering up the heady scent of her arousal. "Because in one point, I did lie."

"What point is that?" Steve said, mouth dry.

Natasha smirked once more. "They were not nearly as large as I would have liked." Her hand reached down to his crotch, fingers brushing over the hardness behind his fly. "This, however, feels like something I might enjoy.” She waited, her eyes searching his. “Are you game?"

Steve swallowed, nodded furiously, then nearly tripped over the seatbelt as he scrambled out of the car. Natasha's door remained closed. Had she reconsidered?

But no, she'd said she wanted him to pull her out and... Maybe she had a thing for physical strength, like he apparently had a 'competence kink'. (He rather thought she was right about that.)

So Steve stepped up to the driver-side door, ripping it open forcefully and grabbing Natasha with both hands. She'd already undone her seatbelt and her body happily curled up around his as soon as she was free of the car. Steve stepped around to the hood of the car and laid her down on her back, his eyes fixed on her face.

"You sure about this?"

"Oh yes," Natasha said throatily, "very much so."

Steve's eyes shifted down her dress. "Do you have... um..."

Natasha laughed, a happy, free, pearling laughter. "Such a gentleman!" Then her voice took on a suspiciously blank quality. "It’s not an issue. You can’t get diseases, I can’t get pregnant."

Steve frowned. "You can’t get pregnant?"

"Surgery. Red Room SOP," she informed him curtly, her expression neutral. "Maybe I will tell you about it sometime. But not now.” Once more, her gaze was pure ice. “Drop it. And fuck me.”

Steve hesitated, looking at her in concern.

“ _Right now_ , Captain!" she commanded and Steve gave her a grin, pushing down the anger he felt on her behalf while trying to recover the previous levity. Yep, he told himself, he had been correct in assuming she would stay in control at all times during sex. And Steve wanted nothing more than to follow Natasha's command.

Gently taking hold of the edge of her red dress with both hands, he pushed it up her body, uncovering the beautiful brassiere and slowly lifting it to slide it off over her head and arms. Natasha gave a happy wriggle as her body was laid bare for him. She reached around and undid the bra herself, swiping it off and looking entirely too inviting. The ice in her eyes melted, and the jarring awkwardness of the painful conversation fell away.

Steve was mesmerized. He wanted to just touch, to caress her and pleasure her and look at her perfect body in the pale moonlight. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He wanted to paint her.

But she had ordered him to fuck her, and far be it from him to disappoint the lady. So he hooked two fingers under the string of her very sexy panties and pulled them down her thighs.

"Oh," he said softly, one hand reaching out involuntarily to touch the smoothly shaved, soft folds between her legs. "That is beautiful."

"Why, thank you," Natasha drawled. "Please, help yourself."

Steve grinned at her. "Sure," he said and bent down for a taste.

Natasha gasped, and Steve thought he detected honest surprise in the sound. Happy to have startled the unflappable Black Widow, Steve continued his exploration of the wonderful new territory that Natasha had incautiously granted him free access to. He would get around to fucking her, sure; but since he'd been offered to 'help himself', he wasn’t going to rush this.

Maybe it was the thought that everything he had ever fought for might have been in vain and he just wanted to forget. Maybe it was the worry about meeting Bucky again and what would happen between them. Maybe, also, it was the very simple delight of finally, _finally_ getting to experience this. But whatever the reasons, Steve Rogers pushed all his worries, responsibilities and plans aside and, for once, focused on nothing but the pure joys of sex.

It didn’t take long for Natasha to once again start making those delicious sounds Steve had heard over the comm. Steve played a bit with touching her in different places, with his fingers, his tongue, lips, teeth and even his nose, and reveled in the beautiful sounds he was rewarded with. A rubbery taste and scent clung to everything at first, but that was easily cleaned off with a few swipes of his tongue. What remained was, Steve assumed, purely Natasha. And Steve wanted more of that. By the sound of it, Natasha heartily approved.

Eventually, Natasha's approval switched over into pleading, though.

"Steve... Steve, you bastard, don't make me wait now. Come on, get your act together!"

Well, what Steve assumed was Natasha's way of pleading, anyway.

His cock was achingly hard and dripping. He had loved licking and finger-fucking her, but now he was more than a little keen to take things further.

Rising up from his kneeling position, he opened his pants and shoved them down. Then he decisively pushed up Natasha's legs until she was folded almost in half, the front of her thighs pressed into her chest as she lay on the hood of the car, with her lower legs stretched out past her head. That woman was flexible! He carefully lined himself up, trying not to mess this up. Natasha reached around to guide him, and suddenly he was entering her moist heat.

"Oh, fuck...!"

Steve's breathing accelerated and he had to stop for a moment to keep himself from coming right there and then. Natasha made an impatient noise and folded her legs down to clamp around his hips, urging him to move.

"Don't rush me, Nat," Steve said, gritting his teeth as he wrestled for control. After a moment, when he no longer felt like he might embarrass himself, he spoke again. "After all, I wouldn't want to break you." He smirked down at her.

"Heh, like you possibly could," Natasha said with a smirk of her own, challenge in her voice.

"Think I don't got it?" Steve asked, giving a first playful thrust. Natasha twitched and they both moaned. Then their eyes met in the pale light of the moon, and wearing nearly identical smirks, they went at it.

Steve was careful at first, despite everything. He was tall and muscular, and his cock was built to proportion. He didn’t want to hurt her. But the longer they ground together, the more confident he became in her ability to take everything he gave her. Soon, he was rutting into Natasha in earnest, the car rocking beneath their combined efforts to make this as hard and brutal as they could.

Natasha moaned loudly, her naked body writhing underneath him just like he had imagined, only better; it was so much better than anything he could have thought up on his own. One of his hands was on her hips, keeping her still as he fucked into her, while the other was alternately roughly groping her perfect breasts, squeezing her buttocks and rubbing her clit to orgasm after orgasm. Every time she shuddered and squeezed tight around him, hands clutching at his arms or thighs and fingernails gouging bloody trails into his skin, Steve moaned in sympathy, but forced himself to keep going. She had challenged him to fuck her well, after all, and he was determined to meet that challenge.

"Damn, Steve," she slurred, looking wiped out and utterly relaxed after yet another clenching, gasping orgasm, "you do know how to treat a girl right."

"Only the best for you, ma’am," Steve huffed as he slammed into her again. "You satisfied with the service, then?" he asked, trying not to look like he was hanging on by the skin of his teeth.

"Absolutely," she breathed out on a little laugh, falling flat onto her back, arms splayed out. "Come for me, will you?" she said, reaching one hand up to stroke his thigh.

That was all it took. Steve fucked into her once, twice more, letting go entirely of his self-restraint as he spilled into her with near-painful intensity.

Steve collapsed on top of Natasha, trying not to squish her, yet sure she could take even that. Natasha hummed in pleasure and wrapped her arms around him.

"That was good," she said, voice dripping satisfaction and relaxation.

"Mm-hm," was all he felt capable of answering.

They both lay still for a while, hearts slowing and breaths evening out in the quiet moonlit night.

“So,” Natasha eventually broke the silence, her voice playful once more, “was that the first time you got laid -"

"Yes."

"- since nineteen-forty... What?"

"Er." Steve had been so relaxed, he just answered without engaging his brain.

Natasha sat up, shoving him off her in the process. He got to his feet and stood there, uncomfortably aware of her nakedness and his own fully dressed body - apart from his bits still dangling in the breeze. He quickly remedied that, pulling the pants back up.

"That was your first time." Natasha's voice was even, carefully hiding her emotions.

"Um. Yes." No point in trying to hide it now, was there? The metaphorical cat was out of the bag.

"After telling me you think sex should only happen between people who care for each other, you lose your virginity to _me_ on the hood of a stolen car after listening to me being fucked by three strangers?"

"Yeah." Steve grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. "I, um, I'm sorry?" He didn't know what Natasha was upset about, but it was fairly obvious that this was bothering her.

"Steve! Has it ever occurred to you that if you have doubts about me letting my body be 'used' by other people, the same should go for yourself? Shit, Steve, I practically ordered you to fuck me, and you just went ahead and did it!" She had gotten up now and was pacing back and forth, still naked except for the highly attractive high-heeled shoes.

It was very distracting, and Steve still failed to see her point.

"It was great," he stated carefully. "I very much enjoyed this. So, er, thank you?"

"Steve!" He was obviously missing something, but Steve got the impression she was more angry for him than at him. With a sigh, she turned around after pacing another few steps and came straight at him, hands reaching up to cup his face. "I never meant for you to get hurt either, you know?" she said softly.

"But I didn't," he said, puzzled.

"I just took something from you," she murmured, "and you're not getting it back."

"Wait." Steve finally managed to see the whole picture. He was not a stupid man, but she was just so far off the mark that the idea hadn't even occurred to him. "You mean you're sorry for taking my virginity?"

"Yes, Steve," Natasha solemnly confirmed, "I am."

Steve laughed. He couldn't help it, it was just too funny.

"Steve?"

"I'm sorry," he chuckled, "but do you have any idea how hard I _tried_ to lose it all through the mid-thirties and forties?" He sat down on the road, resting his hands behind him and throwing his head back to laugh some more. "First, no one wanted me. Then, _everyone_ wanted my body and that really put me off. Then, there was the war... And now, _finally_ things work out, and it’s brilliant, and then you tell me you are _sorry_?"

"But..." Natasha seemed at a loss. "You said you wanted it to matter."

"Nat," Steve said, reaching out a hand to her and, when she took it, pulling her close to rest his chin on her belly, looking up at her while his hands folded around her back. "You do matter to me an awful lot. I couldn't think of a better person to lose my virginity to."

"Even like this?" she asked quietly, gesturing around them at the car, the empty road, the skimpy red dress.

"Even like this," he confirmed, hugging her tighter. "You are perfect."

Natasha hesitated a moment more, then her arms came down to the back of his head, pulling him close. "Thanks," she said softly, the corner of her mouth twitching up. "You too."


End file.
